


Sea Foam

by dawnmarionette



Category: Free!
Genre: HIYORI IS A GAY ICON FUCK YOU GUYS, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pining, ao3 users tell me hiyori is abusive. i put up my middle finger at them, set after ep6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 02:32:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15742341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnmarionette/pseuds/dawnmarionette
Summary: It’s always Nanase, isn’t it. It’s always Nanase who lights the world up to Ikuya, hangs the stars in the sky to him- no matter that it’s Hiyori who stands before him, hands still stained in stardust.





	Sea Foam

**Author's Note:**

> spite is a powerful motivator, which is why i ended up getting mad all on my own today seeing the terrible opinions in the hiyoiku tag re:hiyori being a bad person before sitting down and writing this all at once in a fit of frustration
> 
> hiyori is good and deserves to be loved. change my mind

“I can’t see the stars.”

It’s always Nanase, isn’t it. It’s always _Nanase_ who lights the world up to Ikuya, hangs the stars in the sky to him- no matter that it’s Hiyori who stands before him, hands still stained in stardust.

He’s right here, always has been, but Ikuya looks right through him even as Hiyori gets as close as he dares, presses him down to beg for Ikuya to look at him, please, for once, just _look_ and see the tatters in his shoes where Hiyori has walked the earth for him twice over. The dirt seeping into the cuts across his palms where he’s gotten his hands dirty for Ikuya’s sake; it’s bound to get infected soon, release toxins into his bloodstream if it isn’t washed clean, but Hiyori doesn’t care. If he has to cough blood up onto the pavement before Ikuya to prove it he will.

But Ikuya refuses. Hiyori should’ve expected it- he’s known all along how fixated Ikuya can get when it comes to Nanase, but he thought-

He had believed he could be the exception. If he tore down every obstacle in Ikuya’s way then surely he would turn that smile to Hiyori, for once. He’s only seen it on a few occasions, and Hiyori has twinged tender each time. The way his eyes soften makes his heart ache, and the thought of Ikuya smiling for _him_ that way has kept him going through everything. He doesn’t mind taking a few punches, doesn’t mind throwing a few of his own, if Ikuya would turn toward him someday like a sunflower following warmth, instead of to Nanase.

When Ikuya shoves him away it’s like his hand goes straight through the shirt, into his chest and _twists-_ not cruelly, because Ikuya is never cruel- but even so, something that was maybe more delicate than Hiyori ever knew shatters at the touch. Something deep inside breaks, and Hiyori can’t make himself move again through the cold suddenly gripping his body. Even as Ikuya walks away, murmurs “sorry” because he must’ve heard it when Hiyori’s heart cracked, Hiyori can’t chase after him. Just stares at the ground with empty eyes that don’t see a thing.

It’s no wonder, then, that he never notices the first star of the night appear above his head.

 

* * *

  
The next several days pass in a blur.

Logically, Hiyori knows it’s nothing more than fucked up brain chemicals that are looping the events of the other night in his head, over and over, but he can’t help the way his mind whispers _your prince has left you behind_ each time footsteps pass quietly behind him, room to room. Ikuya seems to sense that his edges are still sharp and jagged and keeps a bit of distance between them. Hiyori is grateful for that, because if Ikuya had confronted him right away he would’ve said something they both regretted.

He still needs time to adjust to this new reality, he supposes, because it’s hard to adapt quickly when your whole world tilts out of focus all at once. It doesn’t matter anymore if Hiyori was Ikuya’s savior years ago, because he doesn’t have a place in his world. Ikuya had made that _very_ clear when he had literally pushed him out of the picture he was painting of his fate with Nanase. May as well let the truth stay buried. At least then Ikuya can be happy with his chosen lionheart; being honest now would only hurt them both more than is already necessary.

In public they keep up the facade, because Hiyori has always been somewhat of the driving force behind their daily routine, and it would be selfish of him to leave Ikuya hanging just because he’s depressed. He’s certainly never let it stop him before. Even though his thoughts are far away it’s easy for Hiyori to fall back into their old habits. He reminds Ikuya to get his homework before they leave in the morning, offers half his protein bar, clocks his times to relay to the coach and Natsuya, in cheerful texts. He’s careful not to mention phone calls, though, because he has a feeling it’ll be more difficult this week to keep the smile in his voice while he talks about how Ikuya is doing in practice.

Coming home together has been a quiet affair. Hiyori has still made sure to give Ikuya little pushes along like always, encouragement to remind him to keep walking to where he needs to go (and not look back to where Hiyori is). He hasn’t mentioned spending time together in the evening, and neither has Ikuya, even though he’d agreed last week to go to a new cafe Hiyori had promised him has amazing pistachio cream puffs. Without someone to drag him around after practice for tea and snacks or walks to the library, Ikuya has seemed content to retire to his desk to study, or play on his phone idly. Hiyori has been reading; filling his head with technically advanced syntax and complex theories has always been a reliable fallback to chase out thoughts that eat at him from the inside out.

Today is Sunday, though, so Hiyori hasn’t bothered to do much more than get up to make breakfast for Ikuya and himself before flopping back down onto the couch. It’s been a few minutes, or possibly a few hours, and Hiyori doesn’t quite care enough to turn his head and check which one it is.

_Your prince has left you behind._

He closes his eyes.

“Hiyori,” comes the voice of his daydreams at that very moment. Hiyori’s eyes flutter open to find Ikuya leaning over the back of the couch, peering down at him with an expression he can’t entirely read.

“Ikuya.” Hiyori forces a smile, because Ikuya deserves that. “What’s up?”

There’s a beat when Ikuya hesitates, but then asks “Are you still angry?”

Hiyori’s eyebrows raise, innocently surprised. “Angry? I could never be mad at you, Ikuya.” He sits up to better face him, so he doesn’t seem so rude when Ikuya is, in his way, being so thoughtful right now.

“You seemed…” Ikuya bites his lip, like he wants to say more, but thinks better of it. Hiyori watches with a distant tug in his chest as ~~his prince~~ Ikuya turns and reaches for the front door. “Never mind. I’m going to the pool.”

A glance back at the window. It’s already nearly sunset- more than a few hours, then. Not that it really matters, honestly.

“Okay,” he answers with cheer in his voice that he knows doesn’t match his crooked expression. He lays back against the arm of the couch to obscure it before Ikuya can see. “Be safe.”

Ikuya doesn’t exactly stumble, moreso stops abruptly, like he’d expected one more stair in front of him than there had been, before he turns in Hiyori’s direction again. “I thought…”

Patiently, Hiyori waits. Sometimes Ikuya needs a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking.

It feels like an eternity before Ikuya continues but is more likely a few long moments. He doesn’t look at Hiyori as he says, flatly, “I’m going to see Haru.”

Hiyori sits up so fast he gets dizzy. “You’re meeting up with Nanase?”

Ikuya is facing him but refuses to meet his gaze. Hiyori searches desperately for something in his expression that will say this is a joke, but finds nothing in averted eyes or stiff posture. “Yeah. I thought you’d want to come. To watch. We’re going to race.”

Going to race. They’re.

His Ikuya is.

_Your prince has_

“I see.” Smile, smile, Ikuya deserves this, his- _Ikuya_ deserves that much from him at least. “Sure, I’ll time you guys. Let me go get dressed. I can bring money to grab some drinks while we’re out, if you want.”

A frustrated noise stops him before he can do much more than swing his legs down from the couch. “No, that’s not…” Ikuya seems like he’s struggling for the right words. Hiyori doesn’t understand why he’s biting his lip hard enough to leave a mark when he’s going to see Nanase, the starlet of his lightest and brightest dreams.

He tilts his head, expression carefully controlled into something earnest. “I thought you said you wanted me to?”

“That’s not what I _meant.”_

“What did you mean, Ikuya?”

Hiyori is so tired. He doesn’t know what to do that won’t disappoint Ikuya anymore- is it possible he’s destined to never be good enough for his little prince? That seems a bit cruel, but, well, life is unfair, isn’t it.

“Do _you_ want to come?” Ikuya says with frustration clear in his voice.

Fuck no. “If you want me to,” he forces out. It’s hard to make his smile look less strained this time.

“Stop lying!”

Smile, smile, he _can’t,_ feels it crack around the edges. “What do you mean?”

Ikuya comes storming back into the living room and straight for Hiyori, towel forgotten somewhere back on the counter. “You obviously don’t want to, so why are you trying so hard to pretend like you’re fine with it?”

Ikuya doesn’t stop like Hiyori expects him to- he comes directly toward him and forces him to trip backwards onto the couch again. He’s caught off guard with Ikuya bearing down on him so closely, so he doesn’t quite filter the words like he usually would have before they’re out of his mouth. “To make you happy.”

The expression of the prince- the boy- in front of him twists in a way Hiyori never wanted to see, like the words had physically pained him. “What about you, then?”

“What…” Hiyori has to swallow roughly. Their position almost perfectly mirrors the events of that night, but reversed. He regrets, suddenly, being so forceful before, because this is incredibly unnerving with Ikuya’s face so close to his own and no escape route in sight. “What do you mean?” He's repeating himself, but no other words will come to him.

“What about _your_ happiness?” Hiyori’s face softens, and he can’t help but smile sincerely again at that. He looks so _frustrated,_ like a young boy giving his best effort at a challenge. Like Hiyori’s feelings are somehow his problem instead of something for Hiyori to deal with himself. He puts a hand on his shoulder and pushes him back gently to sit up. Ikuya lets him, even though it’s obvious he’s biting back another protest.

“Ikuya,” he starts, voice softer now. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Of course I do!” That had sounded more determined than Hiyori expected, maybe, but that’s fine, too.

“No, you don’t,” Hiyori objects, as if to a child. “Thank you for worrying, but I can take care of myself.” Ikuya shouldn’t have to concern himself with Hiyori’s moods with Nanase around, anyways.

“But…” Ikuya clenches his fists. Hiyori keeps his gentle smile on this time, affection flooding the gaps left behind inside him at the way Ikuya wants to help, even when he shouldn’t. “I was lying. I haven’t even talked to Haru. But you keep doing this! You won’t let me even ask how you're really feeling, or open up about anything. All you ever talk about is my dreams and what I want to do. You’re upset with me but you keep pretending like you aren’t and I don’t know what to _do.”_

That had been a lot of words for Ikuya- he must have been thinking about this for awhile.

“Nothing,” he says honestly. “And you should talk to Nanase. You’ll never move forward if you don’t work this-” He’s interrupted when his hand is grabbed abruptly, pulled against a warm chest.

“Hiyori,” Ikuya sounds somewhat strangled now, and that hadn’t been what he wanted to cause, not at all, “Don’t tell me to leave you behind when you’re like this. Haru- I do need to see him, I know, I’m not going to lie about that, but why do you think he’s so much more important to me than you?”

Hiyori laughs at him. He can’t help it. He shouldn’t, it’s so mean, and it’s not Ikuya’s fault, but he just can’t help it anymore and- “Because you’re in love with him,” he says through a smile that barely reaches his eyes. “Because you always have been, and it’s killing you inside. That’s why you’ve been struggling ever since you saw him again.”

Even as he said it, he hadn’t been sure what kind of reaction to expect, but isn’t surprised when it turns out to be an expression of deep confusion. He had been right, then. Ikuya hadn’t been aware of it at all. He’s still holding Hiyori’s hand cradled against his chest like he’s forgotten it there, and Hiyori doesn’t try to take it back.

“No, I’m not.” What. Ikuya’s brows are furrowed as he stares intently into Hiyori’s face. His fingers tighten around his wrist. “I’m not,” he repeats, firmer.

“Of course you are,” Hiyori says uncertainly. This is officially uncharted territory, now. “Haven’t you thought about why you feel the way you do?”

“You're wrong,” Ikuya says again. Hiyori doesn’t particularly want to delve into a discussion coaxing him out of denial, but that seems to be where this is headed. “I’ve thought about it, but that’s never occurred to me.”

“Maybe you should think about it for awhile longer, then,” he says, keeping his voice gentle. “Take some time to yourself.”

“I don’t need time to myself,” he insists, and this looks to be a long night if Ikuya keeps looking into his eyes like this. “I need time with you.”

_The Little Mermaid cast the knife away and flung herself from the ship rather than kill the prince_

“Time with me won’t fix anything with Nanase.” Please. Please give this up. Hiyori can’t take this much longer, this kind of proximity threatening his composure with every second he can feel Ikuya’s pulse against his palm. It’s fast, like he’s as close to shaking apart as Hiyori himself is.

“I’m not in love with Haru!” Hiyori’s heart skips a beat. “I think-” No. “I think I’m in love with you.”

_and turned to sea foam in the waves._

“You don’t mean that.” The words taste like acid, but Hiyori keeps smiling, smiling. “Thank you for trying to help me, but-”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish that thought because Ikuya has already surged forward to kiss him. Hiyori gasps a little when Ikuya’s hands leave his own to tangle into his hair a moment later, pulling him even closer and bumping a cheek into his glasses. Immediately, Ikuya pulls back and tugs the frames off his face, Hiyori relatively useless as he gapes at him.

There’s no way this is really happening. This can’t possibly be happening outside of a fever dream. Except it is, because Ikuya still has on the crinkled shirt he only ever wears with his swim trunks, and there’s an eyelash on his cheek, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment when Hiyori lifts a thumb to brush it away. When they open again they are piercing where they meet Hiyori’s, glancing up through his lashes because Ikuya rarely stares anyone square in the face.

Despite Hiyori’s fuzzier vision, he can see the pink that’s stolen across Ikuya’s cheeks, the way that he’s shied back a little now that there’s some space between them. He’s fiddling with a temple of his glasses nervously.

“That’s… okay, right? It seemed like the right thing to do, because I think you feel the same way, but if I was wrong we can forget about-”

Oh, Ikuya. His sweet, demanding, shy, ridiculous, intoxicating, beautiful prince. Hiyori takes a page out of Ikuya’s own book and leans forward to catch him in a kiss again, all thoughts falling away except the way Ikuya makes a little noise of surprise before kissing him back. Whatever they had been talking about a minute ago doesn’t really matter now. He can deal with Nanase later, because nothing matters right now compared to the way Ikuya squirms when Hiyori pulls him closer by the hips before settling in Hiyori’s lap. His cheeks are so hot Hiyori can actually feel his blush up close.

He can’t believe this is real.

“Was that… really necessary,” he mumbles.

Hiyori positively beams up at him. “You can get up if you don’t like it.” Ikuya stays put. Hiyori’s smile brightens impossibly further.

“You…” Ikuya shifts backward a little to better address him. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you smile.”

Hiyori blinks back at him, nonplussed. “I smile all the time, though.” Maybe there’s something he’s misunderstanding? Entirely possible, considering he had never even imagined Ikuya wanting to kiss him in real life- let alone initiating it.

A pout, cupid’s bow lips turning downward and distracting Hiyori momentarily in their charm before he quickly looks up again. Ikuya is looking at him with narrowed eyes. “You think I can’t tell when you’re faking?”

Someone pinch him. “Since when?” Hiyori says, just barely avoiding sounding entirely incredulous. He hadn't thought anyone could tell.

“Since always. Idiot.”

**Author's Note:**

> gets a phd because someone quoted science wrong in an anime post on twitter.com
> 
> edit: i thought they were roommates because i couldn't see the screen through my tears but i'm not rewriting this now just to take that out. let's just pretend. thank u


End file.
